


And Yet

by BisexualHannibalLecter



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Episode: s01e04 Of Banquets Bastards and Burials, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23518744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BisexualHannibalLecter/pseuds/BisexualHannibalLecter
Summary: Geralt and Jaskier have an interesting conversation following Geralt's defeat of the selkiemore.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 10
Kudos: 212





	And Yet

**Author's Note:**

> I watched The Witcher for the first time about a week ago, and this idea has been sitting in the back of my mind ever since! I hope you like it!

Geralt wishes that, above all else, Jaskier would simply stop talking.

Every word out of the bard’s mouth was amusing or endearing in some way, and Geralt wasn’t used to feelings being elicited as a result. It was nothing like the relief of another monster killed, or the rush of adrenaline from a fight, or the steady bolts of arousal down his spine during an evening with the nearest available woman. These feelings were new, fresh, and unbearably suffocating.

Geralt began to wonder if he was sick, and somehow allergic to Jaskier. He wondered if the bard had picked up some odd disease or fed him something poisonous by mistake.

Mistake. Yes. Jaskier could never hurt him, he was too much of a fool.

No. Jaskier  _ would _ never hurt him. Because he saw Geralt as a friend. He cared about Geralt.

And that terrified him. He didn’t need anyone  _ caring _ about him. He didn’t need friends. He didn’t need Jaskier.

Geralt began to question that last thought, but he was pulled out of his own head when Jaskier dumped a bucket of water on his head. Geralt groaned in response, annoyed, and tried not to squirm too much as Jaskier washed the selkiemore guts out of his hair.

“Now, now,” Jaskier chastised playfully, “stop your boarish grunts of protest.”

Geralt momentarily considers splashing Jaskier, but settles for snarky banter. The bath is too small and clean water at the inn is far too scarce to them to be fighting or wasting any of it.

Geralt’s annoyance and snark slips away as the conversation carries on, finally resigning to his fate of being Jaskier’s bodyguard for the banquet.

Out of nowhere, Jaskier’s voice softens considerably, and he says, “Come on, you must want something for yourself once all this . . .” Jaskier waves his hand, gesturing vaguely, “ . . . monster-hunting nonsense is over with.”

Geralt’s response is immediate, almost robotic. “I want nothing.”

It’s a lie. He wants something. He wants  _ someone _ . It’s less about what he wants, really, and more about what he doesn’t want. He doesn’t want to be lonely for the rest of his days. He doesn’t want to keep being miserable.

Jaskier pauses for a moment, studying his nails in the awkward silence, before suddenly looking back to Geralt. “Well, who knows?” He steps closer to the bath, kneeling down. “Maybe someone out there will want you.” He rests his arms on the rim of the tub and leans forward a bit.

Geralt feels oddly exposed and vulnerable. He doesn’t like it. He wishes he could. He’s on the verge of begging Jaskier to be quiet, to leave him be, to  _ stop _ , but he can’t bring himself to turn the man away.

“I need no one,” he replies, not looking at Jaskier. He looks back up, locking eyes with Jaskier, and hopes the other man gets the hint when he says, “And the last thing I want is someone needing me.”

For a moment, Jaskier seems to withdraw, and Geralt sighs internally. And then the bard speaks.

“And yet,” he whispers, keeping Geralt’s gaze, “here we are.”

Geralt can’t stop himself from surging forward and taking Jaskier’s face in his hands, kissing him passionately. He’s sure he tastes of nothing but ale and the few animals he ate during his hunt for the selkiemore, and he’s surprised when, despite all of this, Jaskier kisses back with just as much fervor.

When they finally part, Jaskier chuckles.

“ _ I need no one _ ,” he says, voice deep and raspy to imitate Geralt’s.

Geralt shoves him, but he can’t keep the smile off his face. “Fuck off, bard.”

Jaskier laughs harder. “Is this something you do with all of your friends?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows. “Oh, right, I forgot, we’re  _ not _ friends,” he says dramatically, holding a hand across his forehead, as if he’s about to faint. “What a blow to my confidence. I’m so hurt.”

Geralt rolls his eyes. “My apologies. Consider my services as your bodyguard tonight, free of coin, to be recompense for my transgressions.”

“We’ll just have to see,” Jaskier replies. “Depends on how good you are.”

“You doubt my ability to protect you?” Geralt asks.

“Only when you’re full of Cintran ale.”

This time Geralt laughs. “Fair enough. I still stand by my earlier statement, though. I will not suffer tonight sober. Not because you can’t stay out of the bedchambers of taken women.”

“Perhaps I need someone to keep me distracted so I don’t wander off in search of attention from others,” Jaskier suggests, giving Geralt a coy smile.

Geralt licks his lips. “Perhaps you do.” 

He kisses Jaskier again, and they stay like that until Geralt realizes the water is cold. He allows Jaskier to help him wash himself off and get dressed in those awful clothes Jaskier insisted he wear, but he doesn’t dare complain. Not if it means seeing Jaskier’s smile disappear.

Before they set foot outside of the room, Geralt takes Jaskier’s hand in his, and holds the door shut with his other hand. 

“I need you,” he admits softly. “I’m unused to needing people . . . or wanting them to need me. It’s going to take some time before I’m completely comfortable with everything that’s happening, and I don’t want you making a show of us in front of anyone. For your sake and mine.”

Jaskier leans up to kiss Geralt. “Consider it done, then.” He strokes his thumb across the back of Geralt’s hand. “Take all the time you need.” He flashes Geralt a wide smile. “I thought you said the  _ last _ thing you wanted was someone needing you.”

Geralt smiles back. “And yet, here we are,” he replies.

Jaskier hums. “Here we are,” he echoes. He bites his lip. “I love you. You don’t have to say it back yet. Not if you’re uncomfortable or unsure.”

Geralt presses a kiss to his forehead. “Thank you, Jaskier.”

Geralt doesn’t say  _ I love you  _ that night, but Jaskier can tell, and that’s enough for him.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this story please leave a kudos! Comments are super appreciated! If you want to find/follow/friend me on other platforms, here are my usernames! Don’t be shy! 
> 
> @bisexywill on Tumblr (Main Blog)  
> @bisexual-hannibal-lecter on Tumblr (Writing Blog)  
> @bisexywill on Twitter (Writing Updates & Stuff)  
> @baby mongoose#6953 on Discord


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